Tribewanted: Vorovoro

Imagine…

You’ve just run a marathon. All that effort. Exhaustion. And then you’re asked to run another one straight away!!!

That’s how I felt when All Saints Secondary School asked for a map of their pad. It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just that I put my everything into the map of Vorovoro. Fortunately, instead of it being a marathon, it became a relay race with help from other tribe members.

I received the school’s kerikeri (something you can’t say no to) in the form of a letter and a battered photocopy of the school map. It was an aerial view of the grounds so it was a simple case of reproduction. I use the term ‘simple’ but it was a bit of a ball ache. For example, the glossy paint used created a beautiful smooth surface which presented the problem of stickability. Shells were used to represent the fence but they kept on falling off. To solve this problem we used a sandy paint concoction to add some grip. It worked. I was a happy.

That’s enough of the technicalities let’s talk about the presentation day. Let’s talk about the Village Manager Marau running out of the Grand Bure and failing to duck in time. CRASH! Claret pouring from a smashed open head. The big man was still standing looking a little dazed. Sit down fella, you gonna need some treatment. Giles was in Nadi and the rest of the island team were in Labasa. The new chief Kaz stayed on the island while I took Marau to hospital. He was gonna be okay, a dozen stitches to keep his head together.

The tribe gathered at All Saints, glad to hear that Marau was fine. Everyone was dressed in sulus (long skirts). The entire school had assembled on the playing fields in front of the pavilion where the headmistress sat with a few teachers. We sat on a mat in front of the pavilion with the map facing down remaining hidden from everybody’s eager eyes. The students were hushed as the school principle announced:

“Quiet please. You are about to witness a traditional Fijian ceremony. Students are to remain quiet.”

Our Community Manager, the man called Tevita, knelt forward and presented the ‘tabua’ (whales tooth necklace). It was all spoken in Fijian so I have no idea what he said but the tone of which it was spoken can be compared to a horse racing commentator. He started off slow. A little quiet. The volume slowly increased as did the rhythm of words and body language. By the end of it he was shouting twenty words a second culminating in a massive crescendo. It scared me. From my perspective it sounded like he was gonna knock out the headmistress. It sounded aggressive but that was all in my head. He was just being expressive.

A teacher accepted the whales tooth and responded with a similar (less scary) blessing.

I stood up and proceeded to the stage sitting next the headmistress. The map was placed behind us facing the crowds. The tribe came and joined. The applause sent shivers up my spine. I only wish those that helped could be here to experience this feeling. Reaching out to Claire (the Blonde), Dan, Elaine and Amy… thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.

Tevita presented some kava – roots wrapped in newspaper, which are used for boozing. In the UK we pop out for a pint, in Fiji you sit round a bowl and drink pounded kava mixed with water called ‘grog’.

A teacher stepped forward and knelt in front of the pavilion, he too was holding a tabua and presented it to the tribe. This is a massive privilege. But it didn’t stop there, oh no, three green bags made from woven coconut leaves were presented full of vegetables and a cooked pig. Unknown to All Saints, I’ve reverted to my vegetarian ways (now I’m no longer chief), but I appreciate the gesture. It’s ironic that my talents have a detrimental effect on the pig population. Sorry piggies. Reams and reams of patterned cloth was also presented. It was a humbling experience but I couldn’t stop my mind drifting off into a daydream…

I’m back at work. Sitting in front of a mac. I’ve just finished designing a poster campaign. The artwork has been sent to the client via email. There’s no face-to-face meeting. No exchange of gifts. No appreciation. Maybe an email to say its arrived and one word of ‘thanks’. A designer is a bit like a prostitute – you have to do what the client wants. They pay, you do.

I smirk. Fiji. This presentation is spell-binding.

Finally, the students were dismissed and we cracked on with a grog session. Can you imagine a western school allowing the prefects to handle the students while the teachers disappear for some booze? And the teachers like the grog strong. King Kong strong.

What a day. What an experience. Topped off with a ride home to Vorovoro on a boat. Dodging floating trees. Swooshing past mangroves. It beats the London Underground any day.